A Crimean Christmas Carol
by Karuka Ikashi
Summary: It's Christmas at the Smash Mansion, but Ike refuses to celebrate with friends. To save him future regret, three ghosts visit the mercenary to help him understand that he needs to change. IkexPit with hints of LinkxPit & IkexSoren
1. Stave One: Christmas Eve

**A Crimean Christmas Carol**

Stave One: Christmas Eve

It was the morning of Christmas Eve, and the halls of Smash Mansion were festive with the holiday season. Mario and Peach were busy coordinating the decorations together, while various Brawlers ran around the enormous ballroom taking care of the various tasks they had been assigned. Luigi, Captain Falcon, and Samus were busy hanging up the wreathes and ornaments, while Red was having his Charizard light the candles that Kirby and Metaknight were setting up on the tables and chandelier. Bowser and Donkey Kong had gone out into the forest and dragged a tree back the night before. Now it was standing at the far end of the room near the window, where it was being decorated from all sides. Pikachu took care of the lights with the help of the Pikmin, who hung about the branches as if they were multicolored decorations themselves. Link was standing on a ladder to wrap the tinsel around the tree with the help of Zelda, who was up on another ladder opposite him. He had to duck as someone flapped noisily overhead, flying towards the top branches. The Hylian grunted in annoyance as the nuisance knocked his green hat off his head, sending it falling several feet down.

"Whoops! Sorry, Link!" Pit laughed embarrassedly as he set the star on the very tip of the tree.

"I thought angels were supposed to be more graceful," Link muttered.

"How's this?" asked Pit as he swooped straight down, snatched Link's hat from the floor and veered right back up to hand it to him.

"Not bad," the Hylian smirked. "You'd better be careful, though. With all this holiday stuff around, clumsiness is dangerous."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that Ness and Lucas came barreling into the ballroom, large boxes in tow. The boxes were wrapped neatly in shimmering wrapping paper. Lucas's was light green with darker Christmas trees and a bright red ribbon tied around it, while Ness's bore a silver background with white snowmen and blue snowflakes spread all over.

"I'm gonna beat you to it!" Ness called out loudly, speeding ahead of his friend, intent on placing his gift under the tree first.

Lucas was not about to be beat, though. He ran ahead of the black-haired boy and seeing that he had pulled ahead, turned his head back to flash Ness a triumphant grin—and plummeted straight into the ladder.

Link's distinctive yell filled the room as he began to topple over. He and the ladder hit the tree, shaking all the Pikmin to the floor and sprinkling tinsel on top of them like shiny silver rain. The Hylian clung onto the tree for dear life, but the large plant was already on its way down. It hit Zelda's ladder like another domino piece, causing her to tip backwards. The princess flailed for a moment, but thinking quickly, transformed into Sheik and nimbly leapt to safety. Pit tried to grab Link before he hit the floor, but the blonde man's weight was too much for him, and the two began to go down together. The angel did manage to slow the fall, though, giving Link just enough time to hookshot the chandelier and soften the landing even more. The chain holding the candles up came down, bringing the chandelier towards the floor and dripping wax everywhere. Everyone stood there in a moment of disbelief, looking at the mess spilled out before them. It was almost as if one could taste the tension in the air. They all stared at the cause of the calamity, who was hiding behind Ness, trying to make himself very small.

"I-I'm sorry," Lucas stuttered on the verge of tears, face flushed red.

"It's alright," Link sighed, but the scowl on his face wasn't very convincing.

"It's all my fault!" the blonde boy wimpered.

"Hey, it was an accident," Pit said, putting his hand on Lucas's shoulder comfortingly. "No one got hurt, so let's forget about it and just start cleaning up, okay?"

The blonde boy nodded, and he and Ness immediately put their presents down and helped the others fix the tree. Link smiled at Pit.

"Thanks for your help back there."

"It was nothing," the angel said with a laugh. "I didn't do much anyway."

"You're always good at turning a bad situation around," the Hylian told him. "It's easy to get stressed around this time of year, but you always have a good attitude. And just look at you— the very embodiment of Christmas spirit!"

Pit looked down at himself and blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. He had donned the green toga today, complete with red scarf. He had never packed them with the intention of dressing Christmasy when the time came. They were part of his normal wardrobe from Skyworld, but somehow, they had just fit for the occassion. He had been wearing them constantly since the holiday season started. The angel had even thrown on a Santa hat to complete the look.

"Who are you to talk?" he teased. "You look like you just stepped out of the North Pole all year round!"

He dodged a playful smack from his pointy-eared friend.

"These are a hero's garments," the Hylian informed him. "Not clothes from one of Santa's elves!"

"Could've fooled me," the angel snickered.

He helped set the star in its rightful place on top of the tree once more. The ballroom was already starting to look much better. It glowed with all the colorful decorations that covered it from corner to corner. It being only Pit's second Christmas at the mansion, he was very impressed.

"So, you're bringing someone to the dance tomorrow, right?" Link asked him as he climbed his ladder again, more warily this time.

"Err, I dunno," Pit said. "We don't have to, right?"

"Well, no," the Hylian replied, "but its one of the few chances outsiders get to see the mansion. Why don't you ask one of your friends from Skyworld? Any cute angel girls waiting for you back at home?"

_Not really, no, _the captain thought to himself. He looked down at the floor distractively. _Actually, the only person I've thought of going with is already here…_

"Eh? Pit? I doubt it's safe to space out while hovering like that."

"Oh, sorry," the angel smirked. "I was just thinking, I already know who I want to ask."

"Really? Who?"

"It's a secret!" Pit laughed and swooped away, leaving a confused Link behind him. _Now if only he'll say yes._

-*-*-*-*-*-

That night, the Brawlers held a large Christmas Eve feast in the banquet hall. The smaller tables that were usually separated and surrounded by four or so chairs had been put together end to end and covered with an elegant red cloth. Chairs lined each side of it, with one at each head. In the center, colorful platters were laid out with all kinds of food from the different fighters' worlds.

Pit arrived a bit late. Most of the Brawlers had already taken their seats when the angel walked into the banquet hall and searched for a place to sit down. There was a seat open next to Kirby, but the last time Pit had sat next to him during a meal, he had almost gotten sucked into the pink blob's mouth along with the food on his plate. A bit further down was Wario, but the angel had no desire to sit next to that man._ Not after Spicy Taco Tuesday. _That only left…

"Hey, Pit, over here!"

The angel saw Link waving at him. There was an empty seat next to him. On that other side of that seat was—_Ike! _The angel's eyes widened, and he tried not to look nervous as he approached his friend and the blue-haired man.

"Took you long enough," the Hylian smirked as Pit pulled out the chair and sat down.

"I just wanted to be even more festive," the angel told him, indicating the red jingle bell necklace he had added to his Christmas ensemble.

"Oh good," Link laughed. "Now when you're coming, people will be warned."

Pit gave him a good-natured frown, but his look turned to surprise when he heard the man on the other side of him chuckling slightly. He turned to look at Ike.

"Sorry," the mercenary said. "That is a good look for you, though."

The angel tried to hide his blush, unsuccessfully.

"T-thanks," he stammered. "So how have you been, Ike? I haven't seen much of you lately."

"I've been alright," Ike replied, a more serious expression returning to his face. "Just busy."

"Should I leave you two alooone?" Link whispered slyly in Pit's ear.

The angel kicked him under the table.

"We should hang out sometime," Pit said, trying to distract himself by loading up his plate with food.

"Yeah, maybe," Ike mumbled back noncommittally.

The mercenary seemed more interested in his chicken than the boy sitting beside him. Pit shook off his feeling off his feeling of disappointment and started nibbling his food. _After dinner, _he decided. _That's when I'll ask him. _

Pit spent the rest of the meal talking to Link. Once the feast was over, everyone cleared out of the banquet hall and headed back up to their rooms. The Hylian bid his friend good night and hurried on ahead, knowing what the angel was planning. Ike took his time finishing up, which pleased Pit. This way, they could walk back to the residential area together alone.

"Hm? Are you waiting for me?" the mercenary asked him.

"Ah! No," Pit told him embarrassedly. "I'm just not in that much of a hurry. Do you want to walk back to the dorms with me?"

"Okay," Ike shrugged.

He pushed his chair in, and the two began to make their journey back to their rooms. Pit's bells jingled softly with every step; the mercenary snapped out of his distracted daze and looked at them curiously.

"Like 'em?" Pit asked, amused. "I got them at a store in town last week. I never imagined there'd be so much Christmas stuff down here!"

"Down here?"

"Yeah, in the Overwor- er, I mean Earth. We don't have all of this in Skyworld."

"This must all seem really weird to you, then."

"Oh, no," Pit said, shaking his head. "I love it! I'm really excited about the Christmas dance. You going with anyone?"

The angel mentally smacked himself. He had said that all too fast. The mercenary raised his eyebrows and gave Pit a strange look.

"No," he said cautiously. "Why?"

"Well, I thought, if you were going…maybe we could go together?"

The mercenary said nothing. Pit felt like he was choking on his words now, but he knew he had to make himself clear.

"You know…like—a date? I wanted you to know that I, I really like you, Ike. I know I don't see much of you anymore, but I thought this would be a good chance…to get to know you better. Would you go with me?"

Ike stared at him. The silence between them was worse than anything the mercenary could ever say. Pit wasn't sure if he saw disgust or repulsion in the other man's eyes. He just looked at the angel as if he didn't even believe that he was standing there, like he hadn't even heard what Pit had said. Finally, the blue-haired man sighed. He turned his back to Pit and started walking away.

"I'm sorry," he murmured as he left. "but there's just no way I could do something like that."

Pit watched him go. At first, he wasn't sure what he felt. There was sadness, disappointment, anger, rejection…All of these emotions stirred within Pit creating a complicated mess that caused his wings to tremble and his heart to break. Tears running down his face, he flapped off the ground and flew as fast as he could back to his room where he could be alone.

-*-*-*-*-*-

Ike, meanwhile, stormed into the gardens, trampling the small flowers below his feet. He had been good at suppressing his feelings a moment ago, but now, he had to let it out. The mercenary took out his sword, Ragnell and started hacking away at the bushes._ What was that all about? How could he think that I'd ever go on a "date" with him? He must have his head in the clouds! Good thing no one else was there. I'd never be able to live with myself if someone had witnessed that embarrassing scene._

Ike was about to deflower, erm, chop the roses off a beautiful rose bush, when all of a sudden a voice called out from behind him.

**"I recommend you find another way to express your anger besides desecrating this garden. The attendants will not appreciate it."**

Ike froze. The voice was loud and authoritative. It also had an echoing sound to it. Almost like- The mercenary turned around and almost dropped his sword in shock. There, hovering before him, was a giant hand. It was covered in a white glove and twitching its fingers as its palm floated up and down. What shocked the blue-haired man was not so much its strange resemblance to an appendage, however, but the fact that it was partially transparent.

"A ghost?" he gasped.

**"I suppose you can call me such," the hand answered. "I am the Master Hand. You may not remember me. It was I who tested Brawlers at Final Destination before my eventual defeat. Now I wander these grounds as a spirit."**

"Why are you here?" the mercenary questioned.

**"I've been watching you, Ike…and I must tell you what I have seen. Since you have entered the Brawl, you have become a different person. You have forgotten how to open yourself up to others."**

"That's ridiculous," Ike protested. "I've always been open and accepting to everyone, no matter how different they were from me. That hasn't changed."

**"You've closed yourself off since coming here," the Master Hand insisted. "You have formed no close bonds with any of the Brawlers and have avoided relying on anyone to the point of becoming severely withdrawn."**

"No!" the mercenary yelled. "It's not true! I haven't changed. I just…can't be the same man I was in Crimea. I trusted those I knew were on my side, and they proved themselves to me by fighting in my army. It's different here. How can I be so friendly with people, and then just force myself to beat the living daylights out of them later when we're locked in battle? I already know I'd hold back. The only reason I've avoided becoming close with anyone is so that I'll be able to give them a fair fight."

**"What you've done is harden your heart to human companionship. I've seen people like you fall to ruins because of pride and loneliness. There is someone here who desires your friendship and you have denied him it without much more than a second thought. If nothing is done, you are doomed to a life full of regret. I will give you a chance to understand. Tonight, you will be visited by three ghosts. They will show you what you need to see to become the man you once were." **

"W-what…?"

**"I must go now. Do not ignore these messages, Ike. Farewell."**

With that, the Master Hand disappeared. Ike stared blankly at the spot where it had hovered only moments ago. _What just happened? This must all be some strange hallucination. I'd better get to bed before anything else happens... _

The mercenary made it back to his room without incident. He still hadn't been able to get over the strange vision in the garden. He was too tired to make sense of it now. Maybe he could go to sleep, and when he woke up, it'd all seem like nothing more than a bizarre dream. Ike got ready for bed and slipped beneath the covers. As the clock struck eleven, he closed his eyes quickly fell asleep.

* * *

**A/N:**Finally, I've finished editing the first part! XD Ike gave me _such_ a difficult time with this story. I had to fight against my natural instinct to keep everyone as in character as possible since, for the purpose of this story, I know Ike has to be messed with A LOT and part of me likes doing it. Please don't hate him too much...^^;

Anyway, you can probably guess what's to come. Ghosts are on their way...I wonder who they could be?

I hope you can put up with my off-beat humor; it finds its way in there quite often. XD Can't wait to post more~ ^^


	2. Stave Two: The Ghost of Christmas Then

Stave Two: The Ghost of Christmas Then

The soft tapping of footsteps echoed through the quiet chamber as the mercenary slept once the midnight hour had come. Ike opened his eyes slightly and bolted upright as he noticed a figure approaching his bedside. Immediately, he grabbed Ragnell from its spot beside his headboard and pointed it threateningly at the shadow whose face he could not see.

"Is that how you greet me, Ike? By brandishing the very sword I rejected?"

Upon hearing the voice, the blue-haired man dropped Ragnell in shock. Its golden blade clanged against the hard floor, and the mercenary stared wide-eyed at the man before him, shaking slightly.

"F-father?"

He tried to peer through the darkness and get a better look. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the familiar build and facial structure that belonged to the man he loved and admired so much– the one who had taught him almost everything he knew about the ways of the sword.

"Is it really you?" Ike choked. "If not, it's a cruel dream. You can't really be him."

"Oh?" the man laughed, amused. "And why not?"

"My father is dead."

The pain in his heart engulfed him. He had never properly mourned his father's passing. He had felt too numb to feel sorrow right away, unable even to shed a tear. So he had buried him as if he were putting someone else's parent to rest. Seeing him now was a heartbreaking joke.

"I'm not dead," Greil told him. "You carry me with you wherever you go. When you swing your sword, it's my hand that guides it, along with everything else I've taught you."

"Father…" Ike said, unable to hold back tears. "Why are you here? Why couldn't you have come before?"

"You haven't needed me, Ike. Not until now," the older man smiled. "You've lost your way, so I'm here to show you what you need to see to remember who you were before you came to this place. I represent your past and all its experiences that have shaped the man you are now. I'm here as the Ghost of Christmas Then."

The blue-haired man wiped his eyes and stared blankly at his father for a moment. The gruff man cleared his throat and continued.

"Come, we have to go. Just take my hand, and we'll be off."

Ike reached out into the darkness and grabbed his father's outstretched hand. Immediately, he felt himself being lifted off the bed as if he was made of nothing but air. Greil brought his son down by his side and waved a hand at the window. It opened, and together, the two made their way out into the night. As they flew through the air, Ike was amazed at the feeling of soaring high above the earth. _Is this what it's like for Pit?_

They flew into the clouds and towards daylight. The mercenary squinted his eyes as the rays blinded him for a moment. Looking to his right, Ike could see his father clearly now. He looked exactly the way he had before he died and his hand was warm as it grasped Ike's smaller one. The blue-haired man felt like a child again.

"We're here," Greil said and guided Ike down to the ground below.

They landed just outside a thick forest, near a small wooden house on the outskirts of a village. Looking around, Ike found himself on strange ground. There was something very familiar about it, though. He knew he must have been here once before.

"What is this place?" he asked his father.

"This," the large man answered, "is Gallia."

Ike looked around him in amazement, recognizing the place more and more. It had been so long since he had set foot here. His memories of his life before coming to Crimea were vague, but not forgotten. Suddenly, the door of the house burst open and out ran two children. The mercenary couldn't believe his eyes. There, toddling before him, was a younger version of himself. He was being followed closely by his sister, Mist, who was barely able to manage her own two feet.

"Ike!" a voice called from the doorway. "Don't go too far!"

The blue-haired man froze and looked towards the source of the voice. His voice shook as he realized who was standing there.

"M-mother…"

The woman was beautiful, with a face that looked a lot like Mist's and Ike's same blue hair. He took a step towards her, but was stopped by Greil, who put a hand on his shoulder.

"She can't see us, Ike," his father told him. "We're nothing but ghosts here, standing in a memory."

Ike watched as his younger self ran quickly towards a burly man coming out of the woods with an ax. It was Greil himself. The man bent down and swooped up his two children, leaving his weapon on the ground.

"How are my kids?" he laughed.

"We're great!" Ike squeaked. "Are we gonna get the tree for Christmas, Papa?"

"Of course," the man said. "It wouldn't be much of a Christmas without a tree, now would it?"

The blue-haired boy smiled excitedly and Mist squealed with joy. The people before them faded as the memory disappeared, and the sky grew dark. The windows of the house glowed brightly with light from within. Ike turned to look at his father questioningly.

"Let's take a look inside," Greil said.

They approached the house and walked right through the door without opening it. The room was warmed by the fire that burned in the heart, and Ike saw himself, a little older now, sitting on the bed next to Mist. She was hugging his arm tightly, tears running down her face while her brother stared blankly ahead. The younger Greil was looking down at them with a worried frown Never had Ike remembered his father looking so unsure.

"Listen, you two," he started, voice uneasy, "I know it's not going to be easy spending Christmas without your mother, but the three of us are still a family. We have to be strong together."

Mist only wailed.

"I-I don't want to do this!" the boy, Ike, cried, looking up at his father desperately. "I don't want to stay in this place! Everything here…reminds me of her."

Greil looked down at them silently, and Ike finally recognized the pain in his eyes that he hadn't noticed back then. He was suffering, cursing himself inside. This was all his fault. He was the reason these children had no mother. He was the one who had destroyed his family's lives. Just because of that one stupid medallion…

Ike glanced at his father's ghost beside him, looking for signs of regret. The man only watched his former self bend down on a knee and place a hand on his young son's shoulder.

"We're not going to stay here any longer," he told him. "But this, our last Christmas in Gallia – let's try to make it a good one."

Adult Ike turned away to avoid seeing the tears running down his younger self's face.

"I've seen enough," he muttered to his father. "Take me away from here."

"You've got one more past Christmas left to see," Greil told him. "This one you may remember more clearly."

He took his son's hand, and this time, they were whisked away instead of flying. The scene before him disappeared, and instead, Ike found himself standing in the entrance lobby of the Smash Mansion. He saw himself there, only one year younger than he was now, standing beside a small pack of his belongings.

"Don't you remember?" he heard his father say in his ear. "It was Christmas the day you arrived at the Brawl."

Ike nodded slowly. Of course he remembered. It had only been a short time after Princess Elincia had been returned to the throne and Crimea had started on its road to recovery that he had received the invite. The mansion was already covered in bright decorations and everyone was friendly and filled with the holiday spirit.

"Welcome!" a voice called out from the door that led to the rest of the building.

Ike watched his younger self was approached by none other than Pit. The angel was wearing the same green garb the mercenary remembered seeing him in earlier, but instead of bells around his neck, he wore a brooch with holly. _That's right…he was the first one I met. _

"My name's Pit," the angel said, extending his hand out in greeting. "I'm an angel from Skyworld. Princess Peach asked me to meet you today and show you around."

"I'm Ike," the mercenary said after he had finished shaking the boy's hand. "I'm a mercenary from Crimea."

"Do you need help carrying your stuff?" Pit asked. He bent down and lifted the mercenary's pack with some difficulty. "Ughh."

"You don't have to worry about that," younger Ike said, taking it from him. "I'm used to its weight."

"A-alright then," the angel mumbled embarrassedly. "Here, let me show you to your room!"

Ike watched his younger self follow Pit out of the lobby. Griel smiled at him.

"Let's race ahead of them, shall we?"

With one touch of his father's hand, Ike found himself transported to Ike's room. The light came in brightly through the window as snowflakes danced outside the mansion. Ike watched as the door opened and the angel and his former self came in.

"Like it?" Pit asked.

"Yeah," Ike said. "It's nice and big."

He dumped his pack on the floor by the closet as the angel flapped over towards the neatly made bed and picked something up from the top. He held it out to Ike and the young mercenary stared down at a box wrapped in colorful paper.

"This is for you," Pit told him. "I figured since you were the newest one here, you probably wouldn't know anyone yet, and I didn't want you to be the only one who didn't get a gift on Christmas! I hope you like it."

"Oh," the mercenary said, surprised. "Thank you."

He accepted the box and removed the wrapping carefully, noting how perfectly it had been done. He removed the lid of the white box inside and took out a soft object.

"Thanks, um…what is it?" Ike asked, baffled.

"It's a Santa Hat!" the angel said, smiling excitedly. "People like to wear these around Christmas to help them get in the spirit. Try it on!"

Ike's younger self forced a smile and slipped the red and white hat over his head reluctantly. Pit flapped his wings happily.

"It looks great!"

_It looks ridiculous,_ the real Ike thought, noting his younger self's pained expression. Greil chuckled with amusement.

"You may not have liked it, Ike, but you can't say you weren't touched."

Ike didn't say anything. He just watched as his younger self thanked the angel and put the box and wrapping paper away. Pit told the mercenary that the other Brawlers were preparing his reception lunch downstairs and, taking the man's hand, he led him out of the room and into the hall. At the last moment, younger Ike slipped the hat off his head and let it fall to the floor within his room before the door closed, making it look like an accident. The angel hadn't even noticed.

Older Ike and his father stood in the empty room, looking at the discarded hat on the floor. The blue-haired man was expecting a lecture on appreciating gifts. Instead, the larger man turned to the frosty window and looked outside.

"Do you remember what happened after that?" he asked. "That boy took you around and introduced you to everyone he knew. He was the reason you felt so welcomed when you first arrived here. You thought maybe you'd really come to like this place."

"I know," Ike said. "And I did like it; I still do. But after fighting my first battle, I realized the best way to enjoy it was alone."

"Because of _that _battle?" his father asked knowingly. He turned away from the blue-haired man and allowed the scene to change again. The air erupted with cheers, and Ike's eyes widened as he realized he was watching the very battle they had been talking about.

"No, I don't want to see it!" he protested, but Greil made no motion to stop the vision.

Ike saw his younger self on the stage, struggling to keep his balance as he was forced towards the edge. He heard a loud yell as his opponent came at him full-force, spinning a gold-edged weapon. The mercenary was knocked off the stage, and when he tried to jump back, he was met with a smashing blow that sent him flying too far off the stage to recover. He landed roughly on the grass, and the other Brawler was declared the winner. Ike's younger self looked up grudgingly as his opponent, Pit, grinned down at him from the stage above. Ike remembered the disappointment, bitterness, and shame he had felt that day, the day his "friend" had bested him. He had been unable to fight the angel seriously, and his reputation had suffered for it.

"You were never the same after that, were you?" his father asked.

Ike cast his eyes down on the floor, reluctantly calling back the memories he had cast off in an effort to save himself some embarrassment.

"When I told the other Brawlers I had held back, they all thought I was lying. They called me a sore loser and said my time would be better spent training than complaining. They knew Pit was a decent fighter…but after his victory, no one expected much from me. That's when I knew that I couldn't form any close bonds with any of them. I'd restrain my full power and end up looking like a fool again. It took a long time for me to feel like I was being taken seriously."

"You were afraid. You thought you'd be kicked out of the Brawl if you went too easy on anyone. So you let them all go, cut off your ties, and became a different person."

"I didn't mean for it to look that way!" Ike protested. "I knew I wouldn't change inside, but for the purpose of the Brawl, I had to be tougher. It was what I had to do to survive."

Greil sighed. Ike hated seeing his father look so disappointed. The older man didn't seem to be angry with the way he had acted, but Ike could hear regret in his voice.

"I know the life we led must have been a hard one for you," he told his son. "Christmases were especially rough after your mother was gone. I never could bring the same kind of warmth to the holidays that she could…and yet, when you got here, you were practically assaulted with Christmas spirit."

"The mercenaries had spirit too. You always said we were all a family. I never forgot that."

"That's true," Greil laughed. "We killed for a living, yes, but when it came down to it, there were many of us who would die for one another. You never found that kind of family here, though."

Ike sighed.

"I just don't want to fight anyone I care about. Is that wrong? I know I can't go all out against someone who's my friend. It's my weakness."

"That's hardly a weakness, son. Caring about people is what gives you strength to fight. It's what makes it worth it in battle. And when you're fighting against someone you know, the only way you can respect them as a friend is by giving it all you've got. They deserve no less."

Ike looked at his father sadly. How could the man understand what he was going through? He had never encountered anything like the Brawl before…

"Ike," his father said, "I have to be going now."

"What? No!" Ike protested, reaching out to touch his father's arm.

He felt the child within him cry out as Greil took his hand and pushed it away slowly, a sad smile on his face.

"I know you haven't really changed inside, Ike. You're still _my_ son, and I know you'll do what's right. These scenes I've showed you, they're all pieces of your past that have helped build who you are now. You can't change them, but you can learn from them. What happens next is all in your hands. You can still save yourself any future regret. You don't need me to hold your hand anymore."

The air was filled with grief and muffled sobs.

"Please," Ike begged, "don't leave me. Father…"

He felt himself growing smaller. His hands were shrinking; his voice was getting higher as he pleaded for his father to stay. He was barely taller than Greil's knee now. His clothes fell down to the ground around his ankles, leaving him standing there in only an oversized shirt, grabbing onto the man's leg. With one arm, his father scooped him off the ground and placed him carefully on the bed, pulling the covers up to his son's chin. The child, Ike, stared back at him with tear-filled eyes as his father ran his fingers over his soft blue hair.

"Go to sleep now," Greil said softly, showing a tender side Ike barely remembered.

His voice soothed him. Ike blinked his eyes sleepily as his father leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead. He could feel the sadness dissolve within him as he closed his eyes. Everything turned to darkness, and slowly, the mercenary felt his consciousness drift away.

* * *

**A/N: **It's GREIL! I'm a sucker for father-son relationships, which makes this, by default, the most touching chapter for me. I hope I didn't mess with Ike's background too much. I've only played Path of Radiance once, so I'm working off mostly memory here.

Pretty light on the comedy this time around; the next chapter's going to make up for that though. I hope Ike's character is starting to make more sense now...I had to do some major editing on this chapter to convince myself, but I like how it came out.

Ohhh crap, I have to finish my editing by tomorrow. DX


	3. Stave Three: The Ghost of Christmas Now

Stave Three: The Ghost of Christmas Now

The clock struck one in the morning. Ike stirred in his sleep as he awoke suddenly. He sat up, looking around him. The room was dark, and he was back to his normal size. _It was just a dream then…Father. _He cast his eyes down on the covers. What a torturous dream that had been. It had all felt so real. He had actually felt as if he had gone back to his early childhood on Gallia and that day one year ago when he had been welcomed by Pit and later defeated by him. The memories were fresh, but there was no way he had really gone back in time with his father. The mercenary shook his head and pushed away the covers to climb out of bed for a cup of water—and stopped suddenly. He wasn't wearing any pants.

He stared down at the garment lying on the floor, the one he remembered had slipped off before his father had tucked him into bed. It hadn't been a dream, then. It had all been real, and his father had been-

"Are you just going to stare at them, or are you actually going to put them back on?" a voice asked, startling him.

Ike nearly jumped an inch off the bed as he noticed the figure standing by his bed for the first time. Instinctively, his hands fell down to his lap. Looking back, he tried to identify this new ghost. Its shadow looked smaller than his father's had been, and it was a different shape due to long flowing clothes. _A dress?_

"Honestly, Ike, can't you pull yourself together long enough to stop gaping at me for one moment?" the voice sighed, bending down to pick up the pants and hand them to Ike.

The mercenary stared at the ghost and took his pants back with a trembling hand. He knew this voice! But it couldn't be…No…

"S-soren?"

"Yes?"

"No! Soren, why?" Ike cried out, dropping the pants on his lap and burying his face in the palms of his hands. "How could I let this happen? I never should have left home!"

"Ike, what-?"

"Who did it?" the blue-haired man demanded, biting back his grief. "Tell me who!"

"Who did what?" the other man asked, confused.

"Who **killed **you, Soren?! They'll pay!"

"Ike!" the mage gasped. "No one killed me. I'm very much alive and safe at home in Crimea."

The mercenary stared at him, dumbfounded.

"W-what? Then…why are you here? If you're not a ghost, is it really you?"

The dark-haired man sighed.

"I'm only here in spirit, Ike. I'm representing the Ghost of Christmas Now."

"Huh?"

"The Ghost of Christmas Now! I'm going to show you the present Christmas, the one that started only an hour ago. Well, we'll move forward into the daylight hours, so you'll be able to see what the day will bring when everyone wakes up."

Ike gazed through the darkness at his friend, still stunned into disbelief.

"What are you waiting for?" Soren snapped at him. "Put your pants on and let's go!"

"Oh, right," Ike coughed, clearing his throat.

He slipped his pants on embarrassedly and got out of bed to stand by the other man. Soren took his hand and held out a warp staff. The two of them vanished from the room, transporting themselves downstairs to the common room of the residential area. Light poured in through the large window panes as night turned to day, and Ike watched as people drifted in and out of the brightly decorated room, some stopping to sit by the fireplace on one of the comfy chairs, others walking across the room to stare out the window or sit at one of the tables to chat or read. Finally, time flowed normally, and he saw a small group of Brawlers sitting on the group of red armchairs. Their attention was all drawn on one small figure sitting in the middle of the red loveseat near the fire. Ike and Soren walked over to get a closer look.

"Come on, Pit!" Link said, nudging his friend with an elbow. "Just tell us what's wrong."

"I already said it's nothing," the green-clad angel mumbled miserably, pushing the Hylian away. "I'm fine."

Ike could see that his eyes were puffy and tired, as if he hadn't slept well the night before.

"Fine?" Ness asked from his place on the footstool in front of the angel, his back to the fire. "You've been losing feathers all morning!"

He pointed down to the rug to make his point. Sure enough, the area was littered with white feathers ruffled from stress. Pit sighed.

"I can't help it if I molt once in a while," he muttered.

"Something's bothering you isn't it?" Link asked gently. "I haven't seen you this upset since Roy ate all your angel food muffins thinking they would help him fly."

Pit laughed a bit at the memory, echoed loudly by the redhead himself, but his expression fell back into a sad frown as he looked down at the feathers by his feet again. Zelda, who was sitting on the other side of him on the couch, put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

"You can tell us," she said. "Maybe it'll make you feel better."

"I don't want to talk about it," the angel said.

"I notice you're not wearing your Santa hat today," Marth said from the loveseat, where he was sitting next to Roy. "You've been trying to use it to promote Christmas spirit since the start of December, and now, Christmas of all days, you forgot?"

"I…just didn't feel like it," Pit admitted.

"Oh, come on, Pit!" Roy said. "We're going to get it out of you anyway! So you might as well tell us. Christmas can't officially start until everyone's filled with holiday cheer."

The angel just hung his head sullenly, feeling Link's gloved hand pat his back beneath his wings. The Hylian looked at his friend sympathetically.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," he said. "But Roy's right—this is no way to start Christmas. If you can, please let us help you get it off your chest."

There was silence in the room for a few seconds, but the angel still didn't say anything. Finally, Ness spoke again.

"I've got an idea," he said. "Why don't we guess what's bothering you? Let's play twenty questions. All you have to do is answer 'yes' or 'no.' If we can't get it right by then, you can keep it to yourself and laugh at us all for being stupid. Deal?"

Pit blinked at him, but slowly nodded.

"Alright."

"I'll go first," Ness said. "Is it something tangible?"

"Yes."

"Can you eat it?" Roy asked hopefully.

"N-no," Pit coughed, fighting back a snort.

"Is it bigger than a bread box?" another voice asked.

Everyone turned to look at Solid Snake, who was leaning against the side of the fireplace. The man had been silent before now. He returned the incredulous stare he was getting from the other Brawlers and smirked.

"What? I had to ask."

"Yes," the angel answered. "It is."

"Is it an alive?" Zelda asked.

"Yes."

"Is it an animal?" Lucas questioned.

"Uh, well…yeah, I guess?"

"Is it human?" Snake clarified.

"Yes."

All eyes fell on the angel in shock and interest. So it was a person that was making their friend feel this way—and given the mansion's isolation, it was most likely a fellow Brawler. Ike felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he realized how close they were getting to solving this riddle.

"Does it look scary?" Toon Link asked, sitting on the rug right in front of the fire.

"No," Pit answered. "But…it can," he added more quietly.

"Is it red?" Marth asked, his view blocked by Roy's hair.

"No."

"Is it blue?" Toon Link questioned.

"Yes."

Silence again. Eyes started to wander to one spot in the room. Ike gaped in shock as they looked in his direction.

"I thought they couldn't see us!" he hissed to Soren.

"They can't," his friend replied.

"What?!" Marth burst out suddenly. "It's not me!"

Ike sighed in relief. He had forgotten he had been standing behind the blue-haired prince.

"It's not Marth, is it?" Roy asked suspiciously, only to get a smack from his lover. The redhead covered his head where the other man had hit him. "See—he can be scary!"

"No!" Pit replied, unable to suppress his laughter anymore. "It's not."

The angel wiped away the tears that had resurfaced in his eyes. At least this time they had come from amusement and not sorrow.

"Then," Ness started before trailing off. "It has to be…"

Link frowned at his friend. Ike had a feeling the Hylian had known all along. Since no one else was brave enough to mention the name, he asked the question quietly.

"It's Ike, isn't it?"

Pit nodded sullenly. The other Brawlers murmured to one another, giving the angel sympathetic looks. Roy frowned and burst out angrily.

"What'd he do to you? The bastard!"

Pit's wings twitched slightly, shedding more feathers onto the couch.

"It's nothing, really. I feel stupid talking about it."

"You don't have to feel that way," Zelda said soothingly. "If he wronged you, he should apologize."

"It wasn't him!" Pit burst out, surprising everyone. "It was me. I made a mistake and did something that I shouldn't have."

The Brawlers looked at him, waiting for him to continue. Reluctantly, the angel pressed on.

"I-I asked him to go with me to the Christmas dance…as a date. He said he could never do something like that—and then he just left."

His face flushed red with embarrassment and shame. The room was quiet yet again for another moment before opinions were suddenly voiced.

"I knew that guy was a jerk!" Ness growled. "Have you seen the way he fights—ruthless!"

"No kidding," Link said. "He just throws his strength around and bashes everything with that sword of his with no sense of style at all! Makes you wonder where he learned to fight."

Ike gritted his teeth and reminded himself to give Link an extra "bashing" the next time they fought.

"He makes it impossible for me to get back on the ledge," Lucas muttered. "It's already hard enough without a flaming sword of doom ready to K.O. me."

"And his victory phrases!" Roy growled. "You know what he said the last time he left me a bloody crumpled mess?" He yanked the green scarf off from around Marth's neck and proceeded to tie it around his forehead, imitating a headband. "'**You'll get no sympathy from me.**'"

Half the room burst out laughing at Roy's perfect impersonation. Ike was far from amused. He glared at Soren who was covering his mouth to hide a smirk while keeping the rest of his face as serious as ever. Pit's eyes lit up a bit, knowing his friends were just trying to make him feel better, but his expression was still a sad one. He clenched his fists in his lap, sighing again.

"We're supposed to give it our all, aren't we?" the angel asked quietly. "Ike's a skilled fighter…and I know it might be hard to believe from looking at him, but I sense something really good inside of him, a part of him that really cares about people. I don't expect him to love me; maybe I'm just not the kind of person he wants, but…I wish we could still be friends. Something tells me he really needs one."

Link gave a small nod, and the others sat silently, trying to understand what the angel saw in the man they all assumed to be heartless and brutal thanks to the cold exterior he had displayed since coming to the mansion. Ike looked at Pit with mixed emotions. There was resentment, confusion, regret, and even a bit of gratitude. He turned to look at Soren.

"Why does he defend me? After what I did and the way I treated him…why does he still think he knows me?"

"Maybe he does," Soren replied. "Maybe he sees the side of you you forgot exists."

"No way," Ike said. "Even angel eyes can't see that deep into a person…can they?"

The other man said nothing. The other Brawlers were still comforting Pit, telling him what a fool Ike was and how he didn't know what he was missing. The angel pushed away their comments embarrassedly. He couldn't bring himself to say anything bad about the man he cared about, even if the blue-haired mercenary wanted nothing to do with him. Ike watched Pit rise to his feet and give his wings a good flap to shake off any last loose feathers and grinned at the Brawlers.

"Don't worry about it anymore," the angel told his friends. "I don't want to be responsible for ruining everyone's Christmas. So let's…let's forget about Ike and just have a good time. Okay?"

"Now there's a plan," Ness said happily, sliding off the footstool.

The others also began to stand up and headed for the door of the common room. Only Link stayed behind to murmur something to his friend. Ike had to come a bit closer to them to hear it.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" the Hylian asked.

"Yeah," Pit replied. "Thanks, Link. I'll be fine."

"If you need me to go knock some sense into that blue-haired blockhead…my sword is yours."

"N-no, that's okay. I think it'd just be better if I tried not to think about him anymore."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I won't mention him again. Let's go, then."

Pit nodded and followed Link out the door. Ike watched them go, a frown on his face. He didn't understand why he felt so upset. Isn't this what he had wanted? Pit wasn't interested in him anymore. Problem solved. The mercenary should have been happy and relieved.

"What's wrong, Ike?" Soren asked. "Not too pleased with this outcome?"

"It's not that," the blue-haired man grumbled. "This all suits me just fine. The only thing I want to know is…why does everyone hate me so much? I didn't do anything wrong. I did what I was supposed to do. I came here and fought."

"It's not about what you did," Soren replied. "It's about what you didn't. You didn't make any friends. You didn't support anyone. You didn't let them see the side of you the Griel Mercenaries know. The people here don't even know you can be a leader. All they see is your strength, your bluntness, and your sword."

"Well, what else are they supposed to see?" Ike argued. "Am I really supposed to open up to them? Put my heart on a platter and serve it to them? They'd _destroy_ me, Soren."

Just then, the door opened. The black-haired mage's attention was drawn to a small pink thing in the corner of his eye. He and Ike turned to look as Kirby waddled in. The pink blob stopped, tottering on his two big feet, eyes wide and curious. Seeing the room was empty, the small Brawler gave a cute little sigh and turned around to go right back out the door. Soren was silent for a moment as he watched it close.

"Oh yes…I'm sure they would."

"You know what I mean!" the mercenary protested.

"I wish you could understand what I mean," the mage told him. "You don't see how this is all hurting _you_."

Ike stopped and tried to read his friend's expression. The stern face was as difficult to understand as ever. Only from having known Soren so long could Ike tell that his friend was deeply worried about him.

"Hurting me?" he asked. "I thought it was everyone else who was suffering from lack of bonding with me. Pit'll get over it."

"And what about you?" Soren asked quietly. "Will you be the same when you go home?"

Ike stared at his friend, surprised.

"Well, why shouldn't I be?"

"You're not the same now. What makes you think you will be later?"

"Why does everyone keep insisting I've changed?! First Father, now you. Just because I've put up a shield doesn't mean I'm not the same person standing behind it."

"You're letting that shield become you," Soren said. "Soon you won't remember what you were like at all."

"I…" Ike trailed off. He didn't have an answer. There was no way he could prove he hadn't been taken over by this false front. Maybe he was even starting to believe in it himself. The reality he had been trying to resist for so long was finally sinking in. There was no one at the mansion he really cared about, no one he would trust as an ally when they weren't forced to fight on the same side in team battles, no one he could really trust. He only saw the other Brawlers as competition. They weren't his mercenaries. They weren't his friends.

"I don't understand," the mercenary said. "How am I supposed to stop this? Everyone else seems to have such an easier time fitting in here than I do. How can they fight so hard against their friends?"

"Did you ever think," Soren said, "that maybe you've created your own obstacle? You want to distance yourself so you won't have to hurt anyone you care about, but that distance has ended up hurting someone anyway. And now because you've forgotten how to open up, you're hurting yourself too."

"Right now, the only thing that hurts is my head," Ike told him.

"Ike, there's a reason that I've been sent here," the other man said quietly.

His friend stared at him curiously, but the mage didn't say anything. Instead, he raised his staff and warped them out. Slowly, the surrounding area faded to black as Ike and Soren were transported back to Ike's room and the much earlier morning hours. The two stood in the darkness by the mercenary's bed, Ike still lost deep in his thoughts. Even in the darkness, he could tell that Soren was uneasy about something himself. Wondering what it was, he looked to the other man, waiting for him to say something.

"The reason I'm here," the mage said, breaking the silence, "is because I'm the only one you know who understands. The way you are now—that's the way I've been almost all my life. I could never open up to anyone…and you're still the only one I can be honest with. When I think of what would have happened to me if I had been left alone—I don't think I would have survived."

"Soren…"

Ike knew how much it pained his friend to talk of his past. He put his hand on his friend's shoulder reassuringly. _At least I remember how to care about you. If only I could show that to everyone else._

"Ike," the black-haired man said, "don't take Pit's actions lightly. What he did—it was extremely brave. I may not know him, but I admire his courage. He knew the risks, but he didn't hide his feelings from you. He was able to do what I was not."

The swordsman retracted his hand slightly in surprise. What exactly was Soren admitting to him?

"Soren…you-?"

"It's all in the past now," the mage said quickly. "You're like a brother to me, Ike. But please, don't make the same mistake I did. Don't shut people out. All you will gain from it is a withdrawn and miserable life."

The mercenary didn't know what to say. He saw his friend's shadow move closer to him—so close—until he could even feel his warm breath on his skin. The blue-haired man froze as his friend embraced him. Never in his life had he expected Soren to make such a bold move.

"I believe in you," Soren whispered in Ike's ear and pressed his lips softly against his cheek.

Ike closed his eyes and like before, his consciousness left him and everything faded away.

* * *

**A/N:**I love this chapter! I think it may just be my favorite; Soren is awesome and the 20 questions scene was a blast to write . I hope I did alright with everyone's characters. I apologize for making Ike a drama queen. The ending scene wasn't originally going to happen, but IkexSoren's kinda grown on me (and I thought if Greil gets to kiss him, then Soren does too) *shot* Actually, I have this hilarious image I want to draw out eventually...We'll see if I get around to it.


	4. Stave Four: The Ghost of Christmas Later

Stave Four: The Ghost of Christmas Later

The clock struck three. Ike blinked his eyes open sleepily, his head swimming in confusion. What was going on? The last thing he remembered was Soren kissing him…His face burned red with embarrassment as he remembered his friend's indirect confession. He buried his face in his pillow. _Am I some kind of man magnet or something?_

The mercenary didn't doubt the reality of these "dreams" now. Knowing that these ghosts were visiting him, he was also starting accept Griel's and Soren's words themselves. He was different. He had to change. Now the question was—could he actually do it? Confusion gave way to doubt as he thought about what the other Brawlers had said about him. _How am I supposed to convince them? If I suddenly start being warm and friendly now, they'll think it's just an act. They'll be suspicious of me, and I'll never be able to fit in here. I have to show them my good side, but…how do I apologize to Pit? _

He sighed. After what he had witnessed, thinking about the angel just made him feel depressed. Pit was the only Brawler who had taken any interest in him, and the mercenary had done nothing except cast him aside. If he avoided him, the others would look down on him, but if he told Pit he was sorry, if he gave him a chance to be his friend, then…maybe things could be set right. _But who says he's still going to want to be friends anyway? Maybe he's changed his mind about that. I sure wouldn't blame him if he did. Perhaps I'm better off alone…_

The mercenary was so busy mulling over his thoughts that it took a while for him to realize that there was still one ghost left. He sat up alertly, scanning the shadows of his room, but there was no one there. He stood up from the bed, cautious, and walked around his room. Everything was still and quiet. The only movement he could detect were the branches of a tall tree rustling outside his window. Ike walked over to take a look outside.

The castle grounds were empty. Ike could see the dim moonlight falling on the gardens where the Master Hand had talked to him. The cold wind was blowing the rose bushes and all the different groups of flowers, making them sway. Ike could see some patches missing from where he had trodden over the plants. The rose bushes he had hacked up with his sword were extremely battered and uneven. The mercenary's eyes drifted over their odd shapes until they stopped on one that seemed the most out of place. It was very tall and rigid. _That's no rose bush. _

The mercenary changed out of his nightclothes and grabbed a cloak and Ragnell. He knew he wouldn't need his sword, but somehow, he didn't feel comfortable going out without it. He left his room and made his way out of the mansion's residential area towards the courtyard. The figure was still there. Ike couldn't tell much about it from where he stood except that it was larger than the other two ghosts had been and was covered in some kind of thick armor. Once he was close enough to make out the design, he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. He stared at the figure with wide, unbelieving eyes. With shaking fingers, he gripped his Ragnell's hilt and gritted his teeth. _I-it can't be…Why HIM?!_

Ike let out a yell and charged at the armored man, sword drawn. He swung its golden blade at the man's breastplate, but it went right through the armor as if it were made of air. The blue-haired mercenary grunted and took a step back, holding Ragnell in front of himself defensively.

"Why are you here?" he demanded angrily. "GET OUT."

The other man said nothing. Ike could hear him breathing within his armor, alive but lifeless. Unlike the puffs of heat that came out of Ike's mouth with each breath, the air around the ghost stayed still. He didn't even cast a shadow from the moonlight. The blue-haired man gritted his teeth, anxious and afraid. _Why, of all people? Why did it have to be him? The Black Knight is dead!_

His eyes studied the helmet of his father's murderer. Was there even a face behind it?

The Black Knight took a few heavy steps towards Ike. The mercenary flinched, but refused to move. He would stand his ground until this ghost made his purpose clear. As the other man approached, Ike could barely make out a few words engraved in his breastplate- **Ghost of Christmas Later.**

The mercenary scoffed and lowered his sword slightly.

"So you're going to take me somewhere too? You're going to let me see my future so I'll be further convinced? Well, they should have sent someone else. I'm not going anywhere with _you_."

He turned to storm off, but was stopped suddenly. The garden around him was disappearing. He turned his head to see the Black Knight standing only inches away from him, startling the mercenary. _How did he move so fast?! Looks like I have no choice here…_

Ike was forced into a new environment. It took him a moment to recognize the inner walls of the common room. It had changed so much from the last vision. The Christmas decorations were gone, and instead of being lively and occupied, the room was silent and bare. Many of the books on the shelves were gone, and the furniture near the fireplace looked worn out. Ike wondered how much time had passed.

Just then, the door opened, and Pit walked in. Ike was surprised to see that the boy had grown a bit taller. He had a more mature look on his face and wore a dark blue toga instead of a white one. Upon coming into the empty room, he looked around and sighed. The angel walked over to the bookshelves to see if there was anything he wanted to read, but found nothing that interested him. Instead, he walked over to the long paned windows and looked outside.

"What's he looking so lonely for?" Ike questioned. "Where's Link?"

The Black Knight raised one armored hand and pointed to the window. Ike walked over to stand next to Pit and followed his gaze. Below them, in the courtyard, Ike could make out the green-clad Hylian talking to the beautiful Princess Zelda. The two of them were holding hands and really seemed to be enjoying each other's company as they laughed together. The blue-haired man looked at Pit. The angel watched the couple sullenly, a tinge of jealousy in his eyes. He sighed and made his way towards the unlit fireplace. He sat down on one of the armchairs there and removed his sandals before putting his feet up on the footstool. Ike took a seat on the couch, not far from him. The Black Knight stayed near the bookshelves at a distance the mercenary preferred.

The door creaked open, and all heads turned to see a small yellow animal push its way in. Pit smiled at it as it bounded towards him and jumped onto the chair with him, nestling comfortably in his lap. The angel ran his hand over the brown-striped fur.

"Hey, Pikachu," he said.

"Pikaaa," the Pokemon answered.

"It's rare to see you here. Thanks for coming to keep me company," the angel told it. "It gets pretty lonely these days."

"Pipikapi? Pikachu."

"Well, you know how it is. Link's been busy since he and Zelda started getting serious. He doesn't have time for me anymore. No one seems to…"

_He's talking to it? _Ike remembered then that Pit had the ability to understand Pokemon. He had thought it silly when he had first seen the angel communicate with Red's Charizard, but when he had found out the truth later, he hadn't been able to help but be impressed. What a great power to be able to understand any language! The angel was not enjoying his conversation now, though. Instead, his hands started trembling a bit as he looked back towards the window. Pikachu looked up at him sympathetically and tried to console him. It nudged its head beneath his hand, urging him to let the feeling of its soft fur sooth him. The angel resumed his stroking, but he couldn't stop the tears from dripping down his face.

"I'm sorry," he muttered embarrassedly, rubbing them away. "I've just been kinda lonely lately. Homesick too. I miss the warmth and friendliness of the angels. So many people have left the Brawl already…I was starting to think that maybe it was about time I headed back to Skyworld too."

"Chuuu."

"I'll miss you too," Pit sighed, "but I have no choice. This place seems less and less like home every day. I don't even think anyone remembers it's Christmas today. Just look at this place."

Ike flinched. This was the mansion during Christmas? What had happened to all the bright decorations? All the excited and festive Brawlers? The mercenary couldn't believe it. Had this place really fallen apart that badly? The angel frowned, turning his attention towards the door.

"There is one thing left that I should do. Come on, we can go together."

He picked up his small companion and carried it out of the room. Ike started to follow him, but the Black Knight blocked his way.

"Move," Ike growled. "I want to find out how this place got so messed up!"

The Black Knight lifted up a hand silently and pointed a finger directly at the swordfighter. Ike's face turned a bright crimson as he glared furiously at the ghost.

"ME?!" he shouted, shocked. "How in the goddess's name can this be _my _fault?!"

The ghost said nothing but stood near Ike as the scene around them changed. They were no longer in the common room. Instead, they were in a large chamber Ike had no memory of ever entering before. It didn't look as run-down as the common room. Instead, it was nicely decorated with portraits, tapestries, flowers, and lots of _pink._

Near the stained glass window sat a miserable-looking Princess Peach. Ike was shocked to see that the ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom had her arm in a sling and was looking less than her usual composed self. She slumped over her desk slightly and frowned as she looked out the frost-covered window. Standing next to her desk, too short to even see the top of it, was Peach's attendant, Toad.

"Are you okay, Princess?" her servant asked.

Peach sighed. "I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me."

"You haven't been yourself at all today," Toad said worriedly. "Are you sure you don't want to get out of this room for a while?"

"Maybe I'll go out later," the Princess responded. "It'll be sad to see the mansion without all its decorations, however..."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything about that," her retainer murmured.

"It's not your fault," Peach told him. "I know you've been busy looking after me since the accident."

"It was hardly an accident," her servant mumbled. The usually cheerful retainer had a dark look on his face that disturbed Ike. Peach hung her head slightly and glanced towards Toad.

"You know Ike can't be held accountable for what happened."

"And why not?!" Toad snapped. "The battle rules may not say anything about how far you're allowed to go in the tournament, but look at what he's done to you! That kind of violence shouldn't be allowed!"

He was shaking now, cowering next to the desk in sorrow and frustration. Peach smiled at him sadly.

"I know you've been really worried about me," she said, placing a hand on top of his red-spotted head, "but I have no hard feelings against Ike. We were supposed to fight with all our strength, and that's exactly what he did. I never expected him to hold back…and this is just the result of our battle."

"Princess Peach…"

"It's alright," the princess said sweetly. "Soon I'll be fully recovered and everything will be back to normal again too. You'll see. I know I'll be able to fix this mansion back up again. I just wish so many Brawlers hadn't left so suddenly. The halls are too quiet."

"They're afraid to fight after seeing what happened to you," Toad murmured ominously. "The Hands have lowered their restrictions and the healers have been so much less effective lately. With dangerous fighters around, the risks are too great."

"The Brawl is probably on its way to closure," Peach admitted. "But we must see it through to the end. I can't sit by and watch it crumble before me. Toad…I think I'll take that break now."

Ike, who had been watching incredulously since the mention of his name now staggered back in shock as Princess Peach did not rise from her seat, but instead, wheeled her way around the desk in a wheelchair. The mercenary's head shot in the direction of the Black Knight, eyes wide and heart thumping.

"This has to be a joke!" he gasped. "I-I would never do something like this! There's no way!"

The ghost only stared at him, motionless. The blue-haired man clenched his fists and shook his head as if trying to free his mind of what lay before him. _This can't be right—this isn't me! I would never let myself go that far…Do I really end up forgetting who I am? Do I really turn into someone who would do something like this? _He approached the Black Knight, who was now watching Toad push Princess Peach out into the hallway.

"I want to see myself," Ike choked, voice tightly clenched. "I want to know what kind of person I've become."

_I just hope it's not too much for me to bear to look at…_

The ghost turned his head towards Ike and let the scene around them change again. Ike found himself in his familiar bedroom, but not all of it was like he remembered. The floor was dirty and littered with clothes and other clutter. There was an old bowl of soup on the dresser that looked as if it hadn't been touched for days. The blue-haired man stared unbelievingly at the place, wondering how he could let it fall into such a state. Then he saw himself sitting there on the bed.

This Ike looked undoubtedly older. He had more of Griel's distinctive features—he was heavily built and wore an expression hardened with experience. His hair was unkempt, however, and Ike noticed a chin full of stubble. The older Ike did nothing but stare blankly at the ground. Ragnell lay at his feet, looking dull and tarnished despite being a blessed sword. Ike had apparently stopped taking care of it.

The real Ike stared at his older self quietly, trying to read his thoughts and expressions. He felt a deep connection with the blue-haired man that made him easier to understand as they became one mind. Ike could sense the great regret and loneliness hidden within his older self to the point where it was almost overwhelming. He shook slightly as he watched the man bury his face in both hands, elbows on his knees. Ike could hear his thoughts within his own head. _How could I let this happen? What could I possibly do to ever make this right? Princess Peach, please forgive me. I've been such a fool. I never thought I'd let myself go this far. That tournament…it was such a prestigious title to be won. I let myself slip; I forgot this was a competition, not a war. I'm sorry…so sorry._

Ike felt tears running down his own face as he shared his other self's sorrow. He could sense how much loneliness the other man felt, as if he never expected anyone to forgive him or ever be his friend again. He wanted nothing more than to hide from the world and save everyone any future grief. _This is me_, the real Ike thought. _This is what I'll become. _

Just then, there was a knock on the door. The older Ike looked up, startled that anyone would come and visit him. He made no move to get up and open the door, and the real Ike watched him anxiously, willing him to rise and see who was standing out there. The man on the bed didn't move however. He didn't call out to tell the visitor to wait or go away; he didn't make any sound at all to indicate that he was even there.

The real Ike sighed and approached the door. He passed right through the wood and looked around the hall. There was no one in sight. Whoever had knocked must have given up. He looked down at his feet and jumped slightly when he realized he was standing in something. It was a small box, not wrapped or anything, just sitting there in front of the door. The mercenary looked down at it curiously and stared back at the door behind him. He heard no indication of the man coming to check what had been left for him.

The only sound Ike heard was a quiet voice coming from around the corner of the hall. Curiously, he walked over to see what the source was. The whispering had stopped now. As he reached the end of the hall, he looked around the corner to see none other than Pit. Pikachu was sitting at his feet, and the two took a cautious look back around the corner and down the hallway they had come from.

"I don't think he's coming," Pit sighed to his companion. "Hopefully he opens his door and finds it before Kirby or Yoshi do. Poor Ike…"

Pikachu looked up at him curiously.

"I know everyone thinks low of him after what happened to Peach, but they don't pay any attention to how much he's suffering right now," the angel said. "He hasn't left his room for _days_."

"Chuuu."

"I hope," Pit whispered, "that I'll at least get to say goodbye to him before I go."

The angel turned quietly and left the hall, leaving the stunned blue-haired man alone. Ike couldn't fight back his grief any longer. Tears ran down his face freely, and he shrank against the wall, trembling. How could the angel still care? What had Ike ever done to redeem himself in his eyes? He looked back at the neglected package lying in front of the door. Pit had even brought him a present. Would his older self ignore it the way he had the hat? This was all kindness undeserved.

_I see now…I see why I have to change. It's not right to live a life without friends, to shut people out and protect yourself by pretending to protect them…I can't let myself go on this way. There are no more excuses left. It's time I learned the difference between an enemy and a rival._

The door down the hall finally creaked open and a wary-looking Ike peeked out. The real Ike watched his other self pick up the box and bring it inside the room. He followed the man back through the door and saw the Black Knight still standing in the same spot, silent as ever. The older Ike cleared some space on the desk and placed the box there. Cautiously, he removed the lid and stared down at the box's contents. Curious, Ike came over to stand at his side, and they looked together.

There, within the four cardboard walls were four more walls—tiny ones…made of gingerbread. The edges were cut away in spaced-out squares to make them look like the parapets of a castle. They were held together by thick white icing and further supported by candy canes. The bottom of the box was decorated with candy imitating cobblestones. Ike had never seen anything like it.

The older Ike stared at the box for a long time, eyes wide. The real Ike tried to search his mind, but this time, he could not penetrate it. He watched as his other self clenched his fists and bit his lower lip in an effort to control his emotions. When he could no longer stop the tears from running down his cheeks, the older Ike turned suddenly and bolted out the door.

Ike had to run fast to keep up with his other self as the blue-haired man raced down the hallway, eyes scanning the area desperately for the one who had left the gift. Ike wondered for a while if his older self actually knew who had given it to him, but his doubts were settled when the man began bellowing out a name.

"Pit! Piiit!"

They ran through the rest of the dorm hallways. They stopped to knock on Pit's door, but there was no answer. They went out into the gardens and still had no luck. Finally, the older Ike gave up. He took a deep breath, looked up at the white frosty sky longingly and slowly began to trudge back to his room. The real mercenary followed him gloomily, also disappointed that they had been unable to find the angel. _Can he really be gone already?_

The two Ikes entered the room again. The older one passed right through the ghost of the Black Knight unknowingly as he made his way over to the bed. Lying down on the mattress, he curled up beneath a blanket and didn't move again. The real Ike was too distressed to stand still. He couldn't take just watching this anymore.

"Let me help him!" he begged the Black Knight, fighting back his pride. "I can't stand seeing this. This isn't how I want it to end! I promise I'll change! I don't need to isolate myself anymore. I was a coward for thinking I could protect myself that way. I need them, Ghost! Give me another chance so I can fight for my friends instead of against them."

The Black Knight stared back at him silently, and Ike went so far as to consider throwing himself onto his knees just to get some kind of reaction or acknowledgement from the spirit. He needed some hope. He still hated the man who had killed his father, but right now, this desperation had taken over. The mercenary looked at the ghost pleadingly, willing him to show some sign of what was to come.

The ghost tormented the man for a while longer before finally, he raised a quaking hand, almost like a wave goodbye. All of a sudden, his armor collapsed onto the ground as if there had never been anything inside of it at all. Ike stared down at it, dumbfounded, and soon found himself overcome with a wave of sleepiness. He staggered to the bed where his older self slept and lying down next to him, drifted off into his own slumber. In his dreams, he could hear his father's words. _"__What happens next is all in your hands."

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_**A/N: **And this part wins the Angstiest Chapter, I mean Stave, Award~ Ike was pretty brutal in this. This was probably the most complicated part of the story for me to write. So much HAPPENS, and it has to set up the whole story for the last bit, which isn't very long at all. The Black Knight was interesting to work with. The best part was probably not having to write any of his dialogue. He just had to be there and communicate in his own way, by letting Ike see his future.

Oh, Ike, why have you let yourself go? Now I want to eat a gingerbread castle

Pit's ability to talk to Pokemon actually comes from the fanfic I'm writing, Icarus. I pulled a couple different ideas from there, so maybe you'll recognize them when those chapters eventually get released.


	5. Stave Five: Christmas Day

Stave Five: Christmas Day

Ike's eyes shot open as the morning light spilled through his window. The mercenary trembled a bit at the memory of his last vision—a future that seemed so gloomy and tragic. He still felt a tinge of sorrow that had come from connecting with his older self, but soon, his mind snapped back to reality. What he had seen just now hadn't happened yet. Even the scene Soren had shown him was yet undone; all the power to change it was still his. Ike's heart swelled with hope as he realized that somehow, in spite of himself, he had been given a second chance.

Immediately, he leapt to his feet and skidded to the window, where fresh snowflakes were falling outside. He burst open the windowpanes, sending the snow that had piled up on the sill already plummeting down onto a small blonde head below.

"Ahh!" Lucas cried in surprise.

"You there!" Ike called, oblivious to having startled the boy. "Tell me, what day is it?"

Lucas stared back at him as if his face had sprouted mushrooms.

"Um…Christmas?"

"And how old am I?"

"W-what?! How am I supposed to know that?" the boy yelped.

"Well, how old are you, then?"

"Thirteen."

"Great!" the mercenary shouted and slammed the window shut again.

The blonde boy was still staring up at it, speechless, when his Ness returned with the hot chocolate he had gone to get to help keep them warm while building snowmen.

"Hey, Lucas?" his friend asked. "Something wrong?"

The blonde turned to him, mouth still hanging open in disbelief.

"I think Ike's gone crazy."

The mercenary, meanwhile, was busy rummaging through the giant trunk that he kept all his less commonly used items in. For a moment, he was worried he wouldn't find what he was looking for, but as he dug his way to the bottom of the trunk, he finally saw a flash of red. Grabbing it, he yanked his forgotten Santa hat out from the pile of junk and dusted it off. It definitely looked like it had seen better days. It was a bit ruffed up and discolored in one spot where Ike had accidently spilled something on it once, but nevertheless, the mercenary arranged it neatly on his head and left the room at a hurried pace.

He had never been happy to see so many Christmas decorations spread about the mansion after seeing the unfortunate prediction of what would happen if Princess Peach were unable to take control and no helpful Brawlers remained. _I'll never let that happen_, Ike promised himself. _Not as long as I'm here!_

He sped around a corner and promptly collided with a box. There was a thud and a loud "ow!" as the carrier toppled backwards and fell on his rear. Ike raised his eyebrows in panic as he recognized the voice. Lifting the box off from on top of the youth, he found himself staring down at Pit. The angel's puffy and tired eyes widened with fear, face growing crimson as he looked up at the man who had rejected him the night before.

"I-I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I-"

"Don't apologize," the mercenary told him, setting the box down on the floor and hanging his head in guilt.

He reached down and offered a hand to the angel, who took it tentatively and let Ike help him to his feet. The blue-haired man's face was burning with embarrassment as he tried to think of the right words to say to get Pit to forgive him.

"I'm really the one who should be apologizing," he said quietly. "I'm so ashamed of the way I treated you last night. You opened up to me, and I was too afraid to even accept you as a friend. I want to start being more like you. You're a strong fighter, but you're not afraid to put yourself on the line and let people get close to you, even if it means you'll have to fight them later. What I'm trying to say is…I'm sorry. Hey, Pit? Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah," Pit said, still looking kind of dazed. "But Ike-"

"What?"

"Your hat…"

The angel's eyes were filling with tears. The blue-haired man stiffened with the fear that the other Brawler was upset at the state his gift was in. Ike hadn't meant to treat it so badly; he hadn't even thought that Pit might have this reaction upon seeing it.

"I, uh…"

"You're wearing it!" the angel burst happily.

"I'm wha-? Erm, yes. Yes, I am."

Pit smiled and wiped away the wetness from his eyes.

"I thought you had forgotten all about it for sure. After I gave it to you last year, I thought maybe you had even thrown it away."

Ike smiled back, turning a bit red again.

"I'd never get rid of a gift someone was so kind to give to me on my first day," he said. "But where's yours?"

"Oh, um…Up in my room. I'll get it after I'm done with this decorating!"

"Need any help carrying that?" the mercenary asked, indicating the box.

"No, it's fine," Pit laughed, picking up the box before giving Ike a gleeful grin. "I'm used to its weight."

The blue-haired man smiled.

"Let's decorate together, then," Ike told him, eyes lighting up.

"Okay!" the angel agreed, and the two of them walked to the ballroom to put up the last-minute finishing touches.

The mercenary felt like an enormous weight had been lifted off him. He no longer felt alone and isolated in a mass of opponents. He wasn't here to impress or intimidate anyone. He was just himself, Ike, the general of Crimea's army, someone who trusted all that promised to support him. Now, almost every time he saw another Brawler, he thought of them as a potential friend more than an enemy—even the more prickly ones. He was amazed at Pit and his ability to forgive so quickly. He remembered the angel's kindness even to his future self, the least deserving person he could think of. Gratitude mingled with affection, and as the two of them stood in the doorway, Ike holding the ladder while Pit hung up the mistletoe, the mercenary prompted a question.

"Pit…would you like to go to the Christmas dance with me?"

**THE END

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**A/N:**A short and sweet ending~ I was way too amused with the Lucas scene. At least Ike didn't send him to go buy a turkey.

I really hope you've enjoyed the story. Thank you so much for reading!

Happy holidays~!


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